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Percy was going around b*tching about wanting a scarf. "My funnel's cold,
my funnel's cold! I want a scarf, I want a scarf!"
"Rubbish Percy!" snorted Henry, "Engines don't wear scarves."
"Engines
with proper funnels do, you've only got a small one!"
"I don't care one bit!" snorted Henry, "I heard Lady Hatt telling
The Fat Controller the exact same thing only the other day!"
Percy puffed away in search of a scarf.
Meanwhile,
the Fat Controller was having hot porridge for breakfast. He was sitting with his suitcase filled with clothes, and had had
his wife press his best trousers for the occasion. Little did his wife know that he had already packed a pair of her frilly
underpants and a bra, which he was going to wear to make his own breasticles look good. "I shall change into them just before
the photographs are taken," he said to his wife, thinking he meant the trousers and he set off to catch his train.
"Thank
goodness she never noticed her bra was gone," he thought, "these big saggy things would look like jellybeans if I didn't wear
one of her bras for photos! And besides that, I think she appreciates me stretching her knickers for her, she is getting a
little broad in the backside these days!"
Later, the Fat Controller was waiting for his suitcase. He watched the porters
carrying it across the line. He was anxious as to how he was going to slip into the Gents toilet and come back without anyone
noticing his new bra. And then...it happened! Percy came into the yard, and ran right into the bags. Boxes and bags flew high
into the air, and jam rained down on everyone!
Sticky streams of jam trickled down Percy's face, a pair of trousers
coiled lovingly round his funnel, a top hat hung on his lamp iron, but worst of all, the Fat Controller's wife's bra hung
from one of his buffers, while the frilly underpants had landed on his nose!
The Fat Controller angrilly siezed the
top hat, "MINE!" he said firmly, "Percy look at this!"
"Yes Sir." said Percy nervously.
"My wife's frilly...I mean,
my best trousers too!" he scolded.
"Yes Sir!"
"We must pay the passengers for their spoilt clothes. And that br...and
my trousers are ruined! I hope this will teach you not to play tricks with the coaches!"
Percy puffed away to be cleaned
at once. And by the end of the day, he was looking much better again.
That evening, the Fat Controller had a bit of
explaining to do with his wife. "I have no idea how your frilly stuff got in there dear, perhaps it was from when we went
away for that dirty weekend a couple of months ago, stuff you forgot to unpack."
"Oh come off it Topham," she said firmly,
"I was expecting to find them in the wash, I had just managed to get the skid-marks out of my nightie. Which reminds me, stop
wearing it! What you have are known as man-boobs, its not an excuse for you to go around wearing my sexy gear!"
"I
suit it better than you do," he muttered under his breath. And with that, he went to the toilet to take a dump and to read
the Express. When he came out again, he spoke to his wife, "How about I take you out tomorrow?"
She gave him a dirty look,
"I thought I told you to get rid of that rifle!"
"As much as it would pleasure me dear, I don't mean that, rather a day
at the beach."
"Fine." she said, "But remember and wear MEN'S clothes at the beach!"
The next morning, Percy was
shunting, when his Driver groaned a little when he bent over. "Ooh!" he said to the fireman, "I'm going to rip Lady Hatt's
knickers off when I get home tonight."
The Fireman looked puzzled, "I never knew you were knocking around with her, Bob."
"Nah,
it's not that," he said, "the elastic's far too tight on these things! I wish the blobby old bugger had worn them before me!
By the way, aren't we taking him and his family to the beach today?"
"Yes," said the Fireman, "we'd better hurry, he could
appear here any second, you know what he's like."
The Fat Controller, wife and grandchildren were stood on the platform
when Percy arrived and then they set off.
When they got to the beach, the Fat Controller changed into his beach wear
and laid down for a sunbathe. He was just going to sleep, when he felt something attaching to his legs. He took no notice
of it at first, until of course he heard a child saying, "Will it live?"
He woke up from his dozing to find Greenpeace
were trying to drag him back into the water, thinking he was a beached whale! "I told you we'd have had no problems like this
if you'd have let me wear your pink swimming costume!" he roared at his wife.
"Fat chance!" she called back and
got back to her Agatha Christie novel.
Soon, Greenpeace discovered their mistake and allowed him back on dry land.
"That's the last time I go to the beach!" he said, "Bloody hippies! Come on, let's go to find a Castle and a mine, then we'll
scare the living daylights out of Toby by telling him there's a ghost down there!"
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